Sorceress

Chapter 39:

With dawn comes a rush. Everybody runs around dousing fires with water, packing up skins, preparing horses for a long ride. Call stands at the hub of this manic energy, yelling orders to and fro. I pull my cloak close to me, feeling a cold undercurrent lacing the morning breeze. Keeping the cloak tight, I roll up my furs and kick a pail of water over to put the fire out. Then, once everyone has mounted their steeds, and there is barely any trace of our night stop here, call and I summon our magic, and slowly pull up shoots of grass up from the murky soil to cover the burnt wood left behind by the flames. Call then turns to the tribe,

"We now ride to the Ailleacht Feilds! We are so close, my people! We are so close to avenging the North, and saving the South!" A hearty roar of defiance and agreement follows Call and I as we lead the way back out of the glade and into the woods.

Three hours into the straight gallop to the Feilds, and we exit from the woods into a deep decline and valley. Several of the horses begin to shy, and I can see the evident fear etched onto their riders faces. Call gallops straight down, allowing a few of his tribe to gain more confidence.

"People of the South, there is no other way down, you must follow your leader!" I shout, and, suppressing the fear working its way up my throat, I push forwards, my horse stumbling time after time on loose pebbles and scree. The rest of the time follow me, and I can sense their fear and anxiety. I reach the bottom of the valley, and call laughs and smiles at me, but the moment is broken by a sharp scream further up the incline. Shocked, I see a young girl no older than me be thrown off her horse as it collapsed to the ground. Adrenaline kicks in and leaping off our horses, Call and I run up the ascent, scrambling over boulders, mud and grass being kicked up in our wake. Call runs to grab the horse, and stop it from crashing into anyone or bolting, and I run to the girl. She lays at an awkward angle, blood trickling down from her nose and scalp. "What is your name?" I ask her,

"Isla," she answers.

"How are you feeling, Isla?" I ask, attempting to keep her talking, and stop her from drifting off,

"It feels..." Isla coughs and starts to shut her eyes, I shake her gently, and she opens her eyes again, "I feel pain, explosions of it, and then through the pain I feel sleep and calm, and I see beauty behind my eyes. I can hear the elves singing and the gentle trickle of a waterfall. I can feel an Autumn breeze on my shoulders. I am standing on top of a mountain, there is a raven to my right, and in front of me are three stones piled on top of each other as a doorway," Isla's breath becomes haggard, and she splutters in between each sentence. Desperately, i attempt to connect with my magic, but in my heart I know that there is nothing that I can do, that she has already died, and her soul is in the process of leaving her body, "light begins to stream through the doorway, warm, bright, beautiful, I feel peace, and... The elves are welcoming me now, they are singing to me to step through the doorway into the light," Isla's body goes limp, and her heartbeat fades away. I see her parents in the bottom of the valley collapsed, crying, and call consoling them and I just feel so sad that I could do nothing and that Isla was so young and not able to live beyond 20 winters.